Just This Once
by HedwigBlack
Summary: There are lines most people never bother to draw. And for the Lestranges, once lines are drawn, they will most definitely be crossed. Rod/Rab incest. For Gamma


_Warning: Incest, slash, and sex ahead. If you are easily offended (and even if you're not), I suggest you go back while you can. :D_

_For Gamma. I hope I did these two justice, love._

_Also for the Not For the Faint of Heart Competition: Operation 'Cest_

* * *

"_Just this once_," he'd said. "Love me like that. Just this once._"_

And you gave in. Rabastan had looked at you like you were the only thing in the world that mattered, and you gave in. It was too easy.

Damn him.

And in that moment, it had been beautiful and unrestrained. Horizontal with clashing teeth and wandering hands and _'Oh, god, this shouldn't be happening'_ but then '_W__ho the fuck cares?_'

No one would have to know.

But now that it's over, you disentangle yourself from his embrace and sit on the edge of your bed. Panic threatens to overwhelm you as the reality of what you've done comes crashing down around you. What were you thinking? And then you turn, and you meet his eyes as they flutter open. You should end it right here, you think. You need to be responsible for the both of you. But you both know you won't.

Because tonight is for the two of you to be wrong together. And there's no sense in ruining it, now.

There are lines that most people never bother to draw. For some, it is because crossing said lines would never even cross their mind. But for others, for the Lestranges, it is because once lines are drawn, they will most definitely be crossed. Time and time again.

And so, you crawl back in bed and lean over him and 'just this once' becomes 'just once more.'

* * *

You stir in your sleep and see that he's awake and watching you from the doorway. You wonder how long he's been standing there. You wonder if he was planning on standing there all night.

You check the time. Two in the morning.

"Go back to sleep, Rab."

But, of course, he doesn't. He grips the doorframe and pauses with one foot already in your room in anticipation.

"Rod?" His voice shakes every time he says your name like leaves that refuse to fall from the tree outside. They dance against the window pane and make patterns in the frost. It will be winter soon. "Rod?" And then it will be spring. And there will be weddings, and things like this can't continue. But now is not the time to think of that. "Rod, I'm cold."

So you let him in your bed again, and you press your chest against his back. You bury your face in his neck, and you breathe him in. He just wants to be held, you reason. That's all.

Yes. That's all.

Until it's not.

You want to tell him that it's wrong and brothers don't do this kind of thing. Meanwhile, your lips are on his, and he's swallowing promises you never say out loud. And you don't have the heart to stop it. You're too far gone to go back now.

"Rod?" And his voice shakes again, but this time you think it might have something to do with you. Something to do with the roll of your hips against his. "Rod?"

"Hmm?"

"Always love me like this, okay?"

No. Not okay.

"Okay."

* * *

You married her. You made promises you didn't mean, and you did the proper pureblood thing, and you married her, and now, she's in your bed. But you didn't love her like that, did you? You just fucked her. Or rather, she let you fuck her before she drifted off to sleep with her back to you.

And you can feel the skin on your shoulders begin to rise as the marks she left get angry. But not as angry as you. Because you miss him.

Damn him.

But it's true. You miss the way he smells like home and the way his voice shakes when he says your name. You miss the way he says 'I love you.' And you miss the way he actually means it.

So, there are nights when _you _come to _his_ bedroom and watch him wake up. And he doesn't wait for an excuse to invite you beneath the covers. And it's this fucked up cycle all over again because nothing could ever come close to a love like this.

"Rod? Rod? What if Bella finds out?"

You bruise his lips with yours and cup his hipbones in your hands. "Shut up, Rab."

Miraculously, he does. And he's kissing you back, and you're loving your brother like lovers do in a tangle of sheets and clothes that never quite made it to the floor. It's never felt so right.

And there is a small part of you that is sorry. For his sake. But mostly, no matter how shameful it might be, you're happy. You hope he knows what he does to you. You hope he knows you love him, because he's the only one you could ever love _like that_.

It's the line you never meant to draw, and you're crossing it again.

Just once more.


End file.
